West Wing to Maternity Wing!(26)

A surge of anger struck her. Her cold stare fixed on Lincoln. 'What is it you want to tell me, Lincoln?'

She could see the pain on his face. This wasn't easy for him-but right  now she didn't care. She'd asked him to do one thing for her. One thing.  She'd travelled miles to find him, to find the best doctor to look  after her son-and now this.

He ran his fingers through his hair the way he always did when he was  nervous. 'I'm really sorry, Amy. This is all my fault. I should have  kept a better eye on you-I shouldn't have taken you out to dinner. This  would never have happened if I'd kept in the role I should have-as the  doctor for your son.' He shook his head and lifted his eyes to meet  hers. 'But I just couldn't.'

Amy took a breath. The air felt tight in her chest. 'What do you mean,  this is all your fault? How is any of this your fault? Lincoln, you let  me stay in your apartment-you drove me to hospital every day, how can  you possibly think this is your fault?'

'Your headache. You told me you had a headache and I ignored the signs,  something a doctor on his game would never have done. I could have got  you to hospital sooner. I should have been paying attention.'

She shook her head. 'I should have paid more attention. Not you. I'd had  that headache all day, but I thought it was nothing. Cassidy warned  me-she gave me a list of signs and symptoms to look out for, and told me  to come straight back to hospital if I developed any of them. But it  seemed so mild, so subtle. It didn't even start to bother me until later  in the day. I honestly thought it was just a headache. I never thought  it would lead to this.' She glanced down at the bundle in her arms. 'Do  you honestly think I would have put my son at risk? The headache was so  mild that I hadn't even thought about taking anything until we were out.  Up until then it really felt like nothing.'

The lines in his forehead were deeper than normal. She was doing nothing  to alleviate his guilt. What else did he want to tell her?

Lincoln leaned forward in the chair, resting his arms on the side of her  bed. 'When I saw you seizing … it was the worst five minutes of my life.  By the time we got here and stabilised you then made the decision to  take you to Theatre, I knew I couldn't be Zach's doctor.'

'What do you mean, you couldn't be my son's doctor?' Her voice had a  cold, hard edge to it. 'It was the one thing I asked you to do for me,  Lincoln. It was the only thing I asked you to do for me.'

'I know, I know.' The anguish in his voice was apparent, and she knew he was struggling to find the words.

'Who is Dr Lomax, Lincoln?'

'He's my colleague. My friend-someone I would trust with my child's  life. As soon as I held Zach in my arms in Theatre, I knew I had to get  someone else to do the job. I couldn't think straight. I couldn't think  like a doctor while I was looking at him. I couldn't be the professional  that I needed to be. I couldn't step back and see the wider picture.  All I could see was the woman I loved lying on the operating table and  her twenty-nine-week-old son in my hands. I knew I had to get someone  else to do the job.'

His words hung in the air.

He loved her. He'd said it. Words that she'd been waiting to hear. So  why wasn't she jumping for joy? Why wasn't she shouting it from the  rooftops?

He was looking at her, waiting for her to respond. She tried to sort out  her brain. She wanted to tell him that she loved him too. But something  was stopping her. Something was pressing down on her chest, willing her  not to say those words.

She kept her eyes on her baby. She didn't want to look at those  dark-rimmed blue eyes. She didn't want them to pull her in and say  something she would later regret.

Her son was staring up at her. Could he see her yet? Could he see the  anguish on her face? How well could a twenty-nine-weeker see?

'Cassidy said that you'd looked after him, that you'd done kangaroo care. That you hadn't left his side for forty-eight hours.'

'I couldn't be his doctor, Amy, but that doesn't mean I don't care-it  means I care too much. I didn't want anyone else to do his care. I  wanted to be by his side. I wanted to watch over him. I wanted to feed  him.'         

     



 

A single tear slid down her face. It was just as she'd feared. He was  professing not only his love for her but for Zach too. This should be  what happy endings were about. But she still couldn't lift her head to  meet his gaze.

Her feelings for him were so strong. Since the first time she'd seen him  again, all her thoughts and memories of him had increased tenfold. He  was everything she could ever want.

But what did that make her to him?

She didn't want to be his charity case. His poor ex with a baby he felt  sorry for. He was feeling guilty right now. Guilt that he was confusing  with love. He didn't love her. She wasn't the whole, healthy woman she'd  been before.

She was damaged goods. Her body would never be the same again, even if she had the reconstruction surgery.

And Zach was it for her. She would never be able to have more natural  kids. Her eggs were gone. Finished. And Lincoln … he was just starting  out. He should have a whole brood of children of his own. And a happy,  healthy wife who could give them to him.

She didn't want him to settle. She didn't want him to settle for her and  Zachary. Even though it could make her happier than she'd thought  possible, she wanted him to have the chance at life that she'd missed  out on.

He stood up and moved to the side of the bed, sliding his arm around her  shoulders and bending over to look down at Zach. 'Do you feel well  enough to try the kangaroo care for a little while? Do you think you  could manage him strapped next to your chest?'

She nodded. She couldn't speak right now. Words were just too difficult.  He'd just stood up, not waiting for a response from her. He seemed to  accept that she couldn't say the 'I love you' words back. What did that  mean?

'Do you need some analgesia for your section wound before we start?'

She shook her head. The Caesarean section wound wasn't nearly as painful  as she'd imagined. Maybe being unconscious for the first forty-eight  hours had helped. The nurse had given her a couple of painkillers when  she'd woken up and she felt fine.

Lincoln rummaged around in her locker. 'Let's find you something else to wear. That hospital gown won't do.'

He was right. The traditional hospital gown, with its Velcro fastenings  at the back, wouldn't suit. He pulled out a pair of loose yellow jersey  pyjamas, with buttons down the front. 'What about these?'

Amy nodded her head. Her tiny son was still in her arms. A nurse came  into the room and between her and Lincoln they helped Amy freshen up and  then secure her son next to her.

The next few hours passed swiftly. Amy tried to get her tiny son to  latch onto her breast, and when that failed, she managed to express some  of her milk to feed to him via the tiny tube down his nose. The nurse  rechecked her vital signs and reduced some of her IV infusions.

Cassidy came and checked on her twice. She talked her through the events  and her subsequent care, warning her that women could still have  seizures after delivery and that she would need to be observed for the  next few days.

And Lincoln floated in and out of her room all day, taking Zachary back  to the nursery for a spell then bringing him back to her later.

It was almost as if the words hadn't been spoken-or never been heard.  Life was beginning to tick along as normal. Why did that make her feel  so empty inside?



Lincoln wheeled the cot back along the corridor to NICU. Zachary was  doing well and seemed a little brighter since his mother had woken up.  Although he hadn't managed to latch on today, there was every chance  that he'd start breastfeeding soon and then his tube could be removed.

So why did life feel at a standstill?

For Lincoln, the instant feeling of relief when Amy had woken up had now  been replaced by a feeling of worthlessness. She didn't blame him for  her deterioration, she hadn't even been too angry when he'd told her he  couldn't be Zachary's doctor. In fact, she'd hardly said anything, even  after his heart had been in his throat and he'd said those words. The I  love you words.

And there had been nothing-no response. It was almost as if he hadn't spoken.

Lincoln looked at the little baby lying in the crib beneath him. Zachary  Carson. Every day he grew more attached. Every day he noticed something  else about the little guy. Something new.

But what if this was a recipe for disaster? Amy had never said anything  to make him think she was looking for anything else from him.

He still couldn't get to the bottom of what Amy wanted and it frustrated  him beyond belief. She'd come here saying she wanted his skills and  expertise as a doctor. But from the moment they'd set eyes on each other  again, the tension in the air had been palpable.         

     



 

He loved it that she was unpredictable. He loved it that she flirted  with him. He loved it that they still seemed to fit together like pieces  in a jigsaw puzzle.

But Amy was different too. Illness had changed her. A high-risk  pregnancy had changed her. She wasn't as confident as she used to be.  Sure, he knew that her body had changed, but something else had changed  deep inside her. Was it her feelings of self-worth? He just couldn't put  his finger on it. He couldn't really understand. And it was making him  tiptoe around about her, something he'd never had to do before.